


I tried not to write a crackfic and this happened.

by FeliciaAmelloides



Series: A Oneshot a Day... [59]
Category: Lord of the Flies - William Golding, NTverse
Genre: AU, Aged Up Modern College AU, Alternate Afterlife, But actually it's also not an AU, Chrystie the Realm Crystal, Crack, Crack Taken Seriously, Ends Happily???, Everyone is Dead, M/M, Simon Owns a Lot of Houseplants, Simulation, doesn't make sense, even tho he's dead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-29 06:03:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13920912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FeliciaAmelloides/pseuds/FeliciaAmelloides
Summary: Chrystie the Realm Crystal makes a simulation which is a better way of deciding who goes to Heaven and who goes to Hell than sheep and goats.There's a bug in it because she can't code.Some stuff happens.





	I tried not to write a crackfic and this happened.

**Author's Note:**

> This was going to be serious, but it turned into a crackfic due to fatigue and possible illness from walking for fifteen minutes outside in the snow, heavy winds and small amounts of hail with not enough layers on and too much stuff in hands.
> 
> ((EDIT- Hi, it's me from a few days in the future. It was an illness~))
> 
> There have been amber and red snow warnings in the U.K. pretty much all day today, and it's still snowing outside.
> 
> TW- mentioned gore, death, lost limbs, lots of death, swearing, criticism of the Coral Island, mentioned alcohol use, mentioned sexual references, OOC characters, author insert (?), mentioned and also implied suicide (of an OC), train abuse???

_I'm dead._

That was Simon's first thought when he sat up in the blistering heat and burning sun of somewhere which looked absolutely nothing like Heaven. To be fair, it didn't really look like Hell either other than the intense heat. In fact, what it looked like was... a jungle?

He took a breath. He felt alive. But he wasn't. Definitely not. That train had been going so fast that he had to have died for sure. Remembering the teenage girl he'd grabbed onto, he silently prayed to God (or whatever force had placed him in a jungle) that she was alive and safe. That he hadn't caused two deaths trying to prevent one.

The sun was so bright. It felt nice to breathe. Even nicer to have all four of his limbs attached to his body. The harrowing image of one of his arms flying past his face returned to him. He'd jumped at an awkward angle, and it had just fallen off as if it wasn't attached to his shoulder by skin and bone in the first place.

Simon looked down, and found a pool of still, glassy water, turned green slightly from being stagnant. He involuntarily yelped in surprise.

He was a child. A child, only about eight or nine- _I'm ten._ His brain told him.

Oh. Okay.

Wait, what?

New, completely different memories flooded the existing ones, and for a moment he felt dizzy. Yes, that's right. He was Simon. Ten years old, epileptic, soprano, gay but he wished he wasn't, the boys surrounding him in a similar state to him when he first woke up were the rest of his choir.

Oh. Okay.

So now he had two sets of memories. But he wasn't the twenty-six-year-old botanist with an army of houseplants and one cat in his tiny apartment- who was going to feed his cat? Water his plants? Clean everything? No. Wait. He wasn't that person anymore.. He was a ten-year-old choirboy stranded in a jungle after what seemed to be a plane crash, and he was also Jesus. And most importantly, he was alive.

He rose to his feet, shakily, and felt a pair of scalding eyes on him. Turning, he found himself face to face with a complete stranger. Another boy, thirteen or fourteen perhaps? No. Twelve. Just tall for his age. Jack Merridew, their chapter chorister and very proud of the fact that he could sing C#. Simon could manage a G at best and sang an octave above Merridew, but the C# was admittedly quite impressive.

Bowing before his great leader (actually just staring awkwardly and hoping that he remembered more about him than his name and vocal range soon), Simon waited for him to say something. He seemed just as confused as the boy himself.

"The plane crashed." He muttered, not really directed at Simon but more so to himself.   
He responded anyway.

"I think so." His voice was so high pitched! No wonder he could manage a G at best. He really wanted to sing. His real (was that the right word?) self most certainly could not.

"We need to find out where we ended up." That was directed at him. He nodded calmly. Merridew, frowning at the lack of conversation, turned on his heel, black cloak flapping behind him, and barked an order at the other choirboys to get them into formation. Simon followed, finding that he knew everyone there, that they had done all of this before. And by the looks of it, no one else remembered who they were before they died. Well, he assumed that they were dead too. Otherwise, what was this?

*

The walk was agonising, but Simon didn't complain. It gave him time to think, and the island (probably an island) was beautiful. The choir were wearing grey shorts which some blond bishonen would be admiring later, as well as white button-up shirts with collars and ties. On top of that was a dark grey jumper, and then a black cloak with a hambone frill. Some were wearing fancy breeches which appeared to be optional (they were optional; Simon didn't want his mother to waste money on them when she needed it for Vincent's college fees) and everyone had long white socks which were probably some kind of crime to wear in modern times.

The year was apparently 1954, Simon apparently had two brothers (one older, one younger) and a sister (younger), his father was dead, and he attended a boarding school where the choir wore a choir uniform over their uniform at all times for some non-apparent reason. Why was the choir on the plane anyway? It was an evacuation plane from a non-existent nuclear war, England had been destroyed by a non-existent atom bomb and _why was he living in England?_ In the 'real world', Simon had lived in Greece until he was thirteen, but in this reality he had lived in England since he was three and spoke English completely fluently.

Yes, lots of time for thinking. The differences between his memories were large, and the longer the murder of crows trudged across the violently hot foliage terrain, the longer he began to see himself as 'choirboy Simon' as opposed to 'plant Simon'. He still didn't understand half of what was happening in this world. It was nothing like the one back home. Did the Soviet Union declare war on England here? He really couldn't tell.

The dark haired _child_ missed his non-existent siblings. It hurt to see them as non-existent now. Vincent, the older one. Named after his father. A weird name considering that it wasn't Greek. Ned, the younger one. His name was Nikolos, but everyone called him Ned, which wasn't even short for Nikolos. Marina, his sister. Everyone called her May due to a mispronunciation which stuck as a nickname.

It didn't make any sense. He didn't make any sense. He was dead! He'd seen his own _arm_ get severed from his shoulder _by a train_! The train which _killed_ him!

His thoughts were interrupted when the choir stopped, someone begged Merridew to let them rest and he suddenly found himself falling to the ground as the world turned black.

*

It had been months, and Simon couldn't remember anything from the time when he first arrived on the island and thought he was dead. Well, he remembered that, but not anything which happened in 'his other life'. It was probably a hallucination or a dream caused by the fall. Maybe he had concussion. That made sense. It wasn't the first time, after all.

But the thought of trains still made him nervous.

Already, the island which had seemed so beautiful at first sight was suddenly a dark and dangerous place. He was afraid of the people around him. His own choir. People he'd sang with for years, people he'd known for so long. They scared him.

And another thing? He was in love. With Ralph. The straightest person ever (he told himself that, but at the same time his initial relationship with Jack had been rather... questionable) and Public (island-wide) Enemy No. 1. Jack hated him. Their breakup had not gone well at all.

So he spent every day hiding his feelings and trying to survive in a place which hated him. But at the same time, he hated himself for still thinking it the most beautiful place in the world. Despite being humiliated by Jack at The Meeting (it was the most important since the start of the island; it deserved those capitals) and chastised by Ralph for his own suspicious activated in the dark, he didn't stop sneaking out to his place in the jungle. He preferred sleeping there than in the shelters surrounded by the screams of savages and children, the silent sobs of homesickness uttered by biguns who desperately didn't want anyone else to hear them because _big boys don't cry_.

He was there that night, staring at the candle buds and finding that he couldn't sleep at all. The air was tense. A storm was brewing, and he knew that something big was going to happen the following day. He just needed to know what.

A rustling in the bushes startled him, and he hid himself away from whatever it was. No one could have followed him, right? He made sure...

"So this is where you've being going every night." Apparently he wasn't very good at making sure. Ralph's voice was soft, but it sounded like a scream against the silence of the island at night. Panic and excitement battled in Simon's heart at being caught by the blond. He swallowed, letting calm overrule them both.

"I like it out here." He wanted to apologise, but it wouldn't do any good. He wouldn't have meant it. To his utter shock, Ralph approached him silently and sat near him. A respectful distance away. He wished he were closer.

"It's dangerous. The others... I think their camp is near here." His pause after mentioning 'the others' gave his fear away. Even their leader was afraid. But Simon had already known that.

"They won't see me. No one else does," He stopped to consider added something to that. He decided that he would, "...Except you apparently."

Ralph stared at him, the blue of his eyes seeming grey in the darkness.

"I remember you." He said. It didn't sound like a normal statement.

"From where?" Flickers of a blond college student, beer cans and a television. But it wasn't like the televisions rich people had. It seemed... even more advanced. Suddenly Ralph looked older. He looked like someone else. But it was still him. Noticing that Simon hadn't treated him as if he was crazy, Ralph replied.

"I don't know. Not for sure. It's all fuzzy... But I definitely remember you. We were alone, at a train station in some town at night. I-I know that sounds crazy, but it couldn't have been anyone else..." Ralph stopped rambling. He looked self-conscious. The word 'train' made Simon flinch. He remembered a scream, someone running. A face, terrified. His arm. It wasn't there.

Train.

_He'd tried to pull him back onto the platform, when the girl had screamed and shoved him, knocking him over the edge. She was sobbing. She'd wanted to die, and someone had prevented it. Now he was over the edge, but that blond mop of hair and the blue eyes he knew so well were holding him in place. Their arms were joined. Pulling, pulling. Falling, falling. The train was coming. The force pulled him in. And they both died for it, arm in severed arm._

Simon stared back at Ralph, recognition, fear and disgust in his eyes. It wasn't disgust at Ralph. It was disgust at the fact that he'd seen him die and not remembered it.

They just stared at each other, two old friends who had died trying to save someone on the same night. Their old lives and their afterlives clashed viciously in the dim moonlight peering through the dark clouds.

"I killed you." Simon breathed, the faintest of whispers in the dark.

Silence. Then there wasn't silence.

"No. I killed myself trying to help you." Ralph responded bluntly. He didn't sound sad or regretful. Only matter-of-fact, because that's what happened.

"You got dragged underneath that train." A bubble of laughter rose inside of him, and he had no idea why. Ralph seemed to feel it too, because he was already starting to laugh.

"Your arm got cut off." At that, both of them just burst into laughter, mad overjoyed giggles because _they were fucking alive_!

Once their insane laughter at their own unfortunate deaths subsided, Simon rose from the mat of creepers and stood before Ralph. Hesitation as they both waited with bated breath for what would happen next.

"I used to be taller than you." Was all Simon could think to say. It was true. He had been the taller of the two, and made light of it whenever they got horribly drunk on a weekend (unfortunately this happened far too often for either of their likings).

"You used to swear." Ralph simply replied. It was true. Simon hadn't been the most innocent of people in college. Ah, that's right. They were roommates. That's how they knew each other.

For a moment, nothing was said. Then they smiled at each other.

That line sounded rather familiar. Hadn't they done that before? On page 121? Shadows and Tall Trees? Just before Roger of all people interrupted their shipping moment?

Yes. It did happen. It most certainly did happen, and it happened again.

"None of this is real, is it?" Simon said softly.

"Nope." Ralph grinned, and his heart lit up. Huh. So he was still in love with him. Actually, now that his memories were returning to him once more he vaguely remembered being in love with him when he died. In fact, wasn't he going to confess when they got to that place they were travelling to on the goddamn train?

"Then I can kiss you and it won't matter?" Smirking coyly, the childlike innocence quickly left him at the prospect of finally doing what he'd wanted to do for so long (yes, that was a double entendre, but it was unintentional). Ralph blushed for a moment, startled. And then he smiled yet again, eyes darkening.

"Go ahead."

Leaning forward with the slightest of smirks remaining on his face, Simon-

*

-woke up, eyes wide and terrified. He looked around for Ralph, and gasped when he saw him sitting there, a haunted look in his eyes. Their eyes met, and just like in the dream (was it even a dream? It had to be real..) they stared at each other for some time. This time round, they were both adults.

A voice interrupted them.

"Can you pay attention please? I have a lot to get through here!" The impatient tone which succeeded in capturing both boys' attention seemed to come from a floating, glowing blue crystal. Okay. She huffed, apparently capable of doing so despite being a crystal.

"Finally. Right, so from the data we've garnered, Purgatory 2.0 v.19999945661954 is a complete failure, absolutely chock full of bugs and most definitely needs to be reviewed," Upon seeing their matching confused expressions, she sighed, "By that I mean that both of you could remember your lives. The entire purpose of Purgatory is to determine whether people should be in Heaven or Hell! We judge that based on who you are, not what you've done. Oh, and by the way the Bible is a lie." She added the last comment flippantly as she used plot-convenient telekinesis to write notes on an old-fashioned clipboard hovering in midair and engulfed in a blue light.

"So we're in some kind of simulation?" Hearing Ralph's real voice was surreal at this point.

"Yes. That's what Purgatory is. And you two were straight on course to Heaven before you basically created Hell on your own." She actually telepathically face-palmed without having any hands at the confusion still written on their faces.

"Okay. Lemme explain this properly. When you die, you are turned into a child, given a fake backstory and forced to spend several months on an island. The way you live on this island and interact with others in your 'team'- people who died at the same time as you- determines what your afterlife will be. Or afterafterlife I guess? Whatever, it's called Purgatory regardless," Neither boy (man???) said anything, so she continued using the summary of the AU as a lazy method of exposition,

"Your second death triggers a dream. In the dream, should you achieve Heaven, you will get your most embedded and prominent desires granted, your dreams and wishes literally unfolding before your very eyes. If you end up in Hell, your worst nightmares and most grave mistakes will haunt you until you fix them, allowing you to earn their way into Heaven by making your dreams come true," Explanation finished, Simon started to say something, but then she angrily added another line,

"The memories of your first life can be present in either reality depending on who you are and how you lived your life. Which is why you guys broke the whole thing through some bug! Now Purgatory is totally wrecked, with Heaven and Hell happening to everyone at once. I mean, Maurice is now shipped with Bill, the guy who rescues you even though the island ISN'T ON FIRE YET and Roger, who is also shipped with Jack who should have been shipped with you!" At that she pointed furiously at Ralph, who just gave her a sceptical look in response.

Rolling her non-existent eyes, the crystal opened a control pad in the pristine white wall, pulling it free and approaching them with a single aquamarine button lit up in front of them.

"Mm'kay, press this and you guys can Coral Island the heck out of your Heaven. Go make love to the Gary Stu Jack whatever-his-surname-was or something." Yawning (apparently she could yawn too), the crystal fangirled over creek as she waited for them to contemplate this and push the goshdarn button.

"It was Martin. Jack Martin. And neither of us are ever going to do that." Simon said with bluntness not usually associated with his character.

"Whatever. Go enjoy your Heaven."

Before anything else could be said, Ralph pressed the button and they both disappeared.

*

So they spent forever on a new island, a place where they could be happy. The people on the island were Ralph, Piggy and Simon. They picked flowers, had a farm of pigs, raised the littluns, and had a good time.

The end xd

**Author's Note:**

> If you asked me to explain the plot of this, I literally couldn't. Still, I'm really proud of it?
> 
> Basically Ralph and Simon were roommates in college and they both had feelings for each other. After they graduated, they went their separate ways but ended up meeting again. They were heading into the city they both used to live in, where they also wanted to finally confess to each other. They met at the train station between their houses, in a random town in the countryside. It was night, and the place was mostly empty apart from a teenage girl. As they arrived, she prepared to jump off the platform. They both ran to her to save her. Simon got there first, but unintentionally scared her, causing her to push him and knock him over the platform. Ralph was right behind him so he caught onto him right as a train passed by. Ralph got knocked over the platform and ended up under the train (between its side and the platform) whilst Simon was pushed in front of it, arm getting cut off in the process somehow?
> 
> They both died at the same time, ending up in the same 'team' in the Purgatory afterlife simulation. The crystal is one of the programmers of the simulation, and she lets them go to Heaven after breaking it so she has less paperwork. The Heaven they experience is a version of the island where nothing goes wrong for some reason.
> 
> Okay, I can't explain any more than that I'm so sorry.
> 
> Prompt- Dream.
> 
> So vague that I made my plot vague too. You won't find oneshots like this anywhere else, trust me.
> 
> Original Number- 26.


End file.
